This Side of Paradise
by Eros and Equus
Summary: Jack and Cutler find a way to escape the Indian heat. Slash. Genderswap. I also fixed the document; the crazy junk at the end is gone. Same story though.


Pale fingers curled around the silken edge of a fan, and a weary sigh escaped parted red lips. The woman lay reclined on a low settee of peach silk, one arm thrown dramatically across her forehead and the other trying to coax a little relief from the fan. She had ordered the servants to draw the curtains closed to block out the sun, but only succeeded in making the drawing room stifling. After nearly six months under the Indian sun, young Calixia Beckett had decided that she had had more than enough of the sweat and heat.

-

"Mrs. Mercer," Calixia called out, her temper shortened by the temperature. "Where is that maid, the one who brought me a drink. I need her back here."

Mrs. Mercer, a bitter woman of undeterminable age and endless gloom, snapped her thin fingers at the hapless maid and pointed towards her mistress' room. Mrs. Mercer clearly favored her position above everyone else in the household and was nearly as curt to the other female servants as her lady was.

"Go."

"Ye..Yess, my lady? What can I get you?" The girl faltered, either out of fear or some difficulty in her speech. Either way, she was immediately put at the mercy of her lady's mood, because Calixia was already under the impression that the girl was half-witted, and she did not suffer fools.

"What is wrong with this drink?" Calixia held up the sweating glass for the maid's inspection, the brown liquid crisp and harsh looking.

"I'm nnnot sure, my lady."

"Well can't you see the ice has melted, god damn it! Fix it, I cannot drink this without ice." She thrust the glass at the girl and waved her away.

-

"Mrs. Mercer, why is it that all of my servants are incompetent? Since father died there has been a substantial lack of discipline in this household. I'm tired of it."

"Your father had a bleeding heart for every slut and imbecile that came to his door crying," Mercer replied, fiddling with ivory brooch at her throat. Calixia –on occasion- was very generous.

"There is not a god damn breeze in this whole country!" Calixia cried, changing the subject. She suddenly bolted upright and directed the fan's draft at her bosom. "I intend to go and find one, Mrs. Mercer, my parasol."

-

Thirty minutes later, Calixia shashyed down her garden path, hips swaying in the same manner than had driven countless sailors to their knees and half the lords in London to duels. Frankly, she would have none of it though. Men were so…so terribly dull and boorish. They pretended that their passion was something to want, then went as cold as stone when 

the first son was born and only rekindled their old ways when another child was wanted. A woman should forget about intimacy if she should bear a girl, after that it was merely a service her husband did her, something to make her worthwhile again so she would to get a son the next time. No, Calixia preferred the fire and fervor of woman; she lived for the rush of wetness and breathy moans that came from such sweet mouths.

Calixia hoisted her parasol higher to protect her porcelain skin from the harsh sun and slipped down the tangled jungle trail at led to her secret glade. There she had a pool and shade…and it was hers, entirely hers.

-

She plopped down into the soft earth and slide off her white, silk slippers, now smudged with black dirt. Calixia was perhaps the only woman who would dream of wearing white in such a filthy place. Her gown was cut from a light silk and small pearl buttons trailed from the hem of her bodice to her slim waist. Most woman wore gowns that suggested that they were not at all sexual creatures, but she flaunted her sensuality. Calixia's gowns were always –always- cut darlingly low and her small bosom was plumped and bolstered by a corset. She could turn heads wherever she went, male and female alike.

For a long while she sat basking in the cool shade, at least until she heard a splash. Her dove grey eyes flew open and she did what every respectable woman would do when intruded upon, she screamed.

The figure splashing along the edge of the pool was undeniably male, though a bit on the scrawny side. Calixia drew back and howled in vain to protect the virtue she no longer had, though pretended to guard with her life. Oh, the scandal that would arise if word was to get out that Lord Beckett's daughter was little more than a common whore.

-

"Who are you, and more importantly, why are you here?" Calixia wailed and fumbled for a stick to beat the intruder with, though she was not above biting or thrusting her knees into the groins of particularly repulsive and brazen men.

"Why shouldn't I be here, lovey?" the figure asked and grinned roguishly, several gold capped and chipped teeth visible.

"Because this is my glade."

"I don' see no sign anywhere."

"It just is." She stamped her bare foot to prove her point.

"What's yer name, doll? Yer a pretty little thing."

"Calixia Beckett," she snapped, "who might I ask, are you?"

"Jack Sparrow."

-

To her horror and intrigue, Jack did not turn and leave, but rather began undressing himself. He threw his boots over his shoulder and hitched his shirt up and over his dark head. Rough, stained bandages covered his chest and Calixia's eyes narrowed. There was no denying the obvious roundness of a female bosom beneath the cloth.

"Jack, is it?"

Jack sighed bitterly and lowered his kohl-smeared eyes. "My name's Jezebel, but I want people tah call me Jack. There ain't a pirate in the Spanish Main that would take a woman tah sea. We're bad luck. Yer the first tah notice."

"Poor thing," Calixia cooed, suddenly feeling sorry for Jack –Jezebel- whoever she was. Calixia knew all to well what it was like to compete with men. Her younger brother had been granted the family fortune solely on the basis that he had a prick and she didn't. She reached forward and ran a pale hand over Jack's tanned cheek, smiling demurely. "Poor child."

Jezebel leaned in to the caress and softly kissed Calixia, eliciting a satisfied moan from the woman. Calixia was soft and gentle, unlike the last person Jezebel had been with, a maniacal pirate captain with a pet monkey -also named Jack- who he had allowed to watch them. Jezebel's hands went to the pearl buttons and deftly unfastened them, then she growled in frustration over the tight laces of Calixia's corset.

"Yah've obviously never been to Singapore," Jezebel grumbled and slipped her fingers between the stays, loosening them until she could bare Calixia's small breasts with their pink, hard nipples.

"No," Calixia breathed, "I can't say that I have."

"Yah should go someday…I'll take yah."

-

Calixia moaned like a doxy and let Jezebel hitch up her skirts while the strange, dark woman's tongue ran over her nipples, laving at them. She was already wet and had no qualms about guiding Jezebel's hand between her pale thighs. She never could stand the wait.

Jezebel tumbled them both to the mossy ground and kissed her way down Calixia's body, down to her weeping warmth. She sucked and licked until Calixia was delirious with pleasure and her body spasmed, her hands grasping wildly at the forest floor. Jezebel lifted her head and stared at the writhing, moaning woman beneath her, Jezebel's lips swollen and face smeared with Calixia's juices. The girl…she was such a sweet little whore; Jezebel was wet and aching between her own legs, that was a rare thing for her.

Calixia was still squirming when Jezebel lay down beside her and nuzzled the pale, swan-like neck. She breathed in the sweet scent of jasmine on Calixia's skin, the remnant of her expensive perfume and eagerly drank in the heady musk of her passion that also lingered, hidden behind the jasmine.

"Jezebel, you simply must come home with me," she gasped, sliding her fingers beneath the bandages on Jezebel's chest. She pinched a nipple and smiled.

"I can't, doll."

"Why?" Calixia wriggled away and sat up, too stunned to remember to cover her breasts.

"I got places tah go, places tah see. I'll make yah a deal though."

"What?" She was suspicious of this woman now. No normal woman left another in a time of need, and Calixia was always in need.

"I'll meet yah here every time I come back tah port in India."

"For how long?" _Until you grew tired of me?_

"Forever."

Both Calixia and Jezebel smiled, then wrapped around each other again, licking and fingers sliding into places that men could only, and would only ever dream about.


End file.
